I wrote a column this morning that raised a red flag for my editor, because I referenced the incident in Washington with the Native American and the kids from that Kentucky school. It wasn’t a big deal for me to rewrite; there are plenty of examples of young people behaving badly, and wondering where all the adult supervision is.
He was just cautious because the story is still unfolding. Meh. Wear a MAGA hat, you’re giving me a lot of information. Stand around and make tomahawk chop motions in the air while laughing as this man drummed and sang a prayer tells me something, too. But whatever. It’s hardly the tipping point. We’re way past that.
This is annoying me, and this is about me. I’m not making the world a better place. I’m not really doing anything, other than recycling and not driving as much as other people. And being polite, at least mostly.
And still I get this righteous-feeling outrage at opinions others hold. Sometimes this is important, but mostly it’s not. So you have a horribly wrong opinion about something. It’s really none of my business. You’re not changing the world either.
There was just something this morning about all the noise I heard about football. I like football. I’m not oblivious to the problems with the sport, and yesterday I found myself wondering if in the near future, we’ll just be watching simulations and not real people giving and getting traumatic brain injuries.
The nice thing was that I figured out my antenna situation and could watch both of them on the television. And I got to use this little app I found that draws the audio stream from a network broadcast to your phone, so I could easily listen with headphones to the games while my wife taught students in the other room, fun.
So I saw the Rams-Saints game. I was watching when that pass interference that wasn’t called happened. Obviously should have been called. Anything could have happened, and that can’t be dismissed—points weren’t taken off the board, and the Saints had a lot more football to play. Maybe they would have fumbled on the next play.
But probably not. Probably, had the call been made correctly, the Saints would be going to the Super Bowl, and not the Rams.
Somebody wins, somebody loses. Somebody tells the story. Both games were close yesterday; both went into overtime. All four teams deserved, if we can use that word, to go to the Super Bowl. Only two get to. And so on.
I get why people are upset. I’m just stunned at how angry and verbose they are, at least on social media, when I have no memory of this same anger at the miscarriage of justice being expressed when, you know, there are actual miscarriages of justice. Not just bad calls in the midst of a fast game.
I think I wonder about other people, maybe, too much.